East and West
by labyrinths
Summary: Maybe that's why Jaime hated Hyle. Maybe it was like Tyrion had once quipped: that they were as different and separate as East and West. And only Brienne, like a compass, could touch both of them. AU: Tiny story in which Brienne has died and Hyle married her.


**East and West**

"How did you ever get her to marry you?" Jaimed muttered.

"I asked," Hyle said.

Jaime snorted a half laugh and refilled his cup. The hour was late and he'd had far too much to drink, but he'd need much more before he went to sleep. Otherwise, he wouldn't make it to the funeral. Otherwise he might be moved to tears. Otherwise he might slash his neck. Though he'd do that, anyway. Perhaps not tonight, but in the morrow. Or the day after.

There was no point in living. No point when hope and all light is gone.

"I meant it as a serious question."

"I meant it as a serious answer."

Jaime stared at Hyle. The man rolled his eyes and shrugged. There was something still boyish and mischevious about Hyle despite his age and the little bits of gray beginning to dot his head. It irritated Jaime. There was nothing boyish left in himself. Maybe that's why Jaime hated Hyle. Maybe it was like Tyrion had once quipped: that they were as different and separate as East and West. And only Brienne, like a compass, could touch both of them.

"Very well," Hyle said. "I suppose it wasn't what I said as much as the proper time. Brienne was ready for a different life. War will do that to you. After knowing so much sorrow, I think she simply wanted a quiet existence."

"A quiet life, with you?"

"I can be quiet."

"You never stopped chattering. All the way to the Wall, and while we were fighting a whole army of undead warriors, all through the bloody winter...you just wouldn't stop talking."

"I wore her down is what you're saying?"

"Aye. Like a deer during the hunt. Very appropriate considering your house name."

Hyle gave Jaime an irritated glance and set his cup down with a loud thud, which made the table vibrate.

"You are rude," Hyle said.

"I am honest."

"And I loved her."

"Like hell you did," Jaime replied.

"I did so."

"You loved her dowry and her island, and both are now yours upon her passing. I imagine you'll be remarrying upon a moon's turn."

Jaime was itching for a good fight. He was drunk and he was angry and he wanted to taste some blood. He wanted a clean death with a sword. He'd been goading Hyle for a good hour and he expected this would be the moment the man would snap, slamming the drinking cup against Jaime's face and screaming that he was a dishonourable bastard, demanding a duel, and then Jaime would die a quick death.

But Hyle sat cooly in his place, not twitching a single muscle.

That's how Jaime knew Hyle really mean it.

The realization was like a swift kick to the gut, quickly quenching any desire for physical combat.

When Jaime spoke he did so slowly, in a hushed voice. "When did this happen?"

"After we were married. It was not a love match, but then...hardly any is. And I admired her, she was my friend, she saved my life...these feelings, they grew."

_Like a tree_, Jaime thought. _It puts down roots. I know_.

"Did she know you loved her?" Jaime asked.

"She knew. She was happy. Very happy."

"And she loved you? She grew to love you?"

"Yes."

Jaime nodded. He felt very tired as he sat there, across from Hyle. In the morning they'd bury Brienne, bury a whole chapter from his life, and he wanted to be buried with it. He was an old man and he didn't want to feel the chill of another Winter upon his brow.

"She loved you too," Hyle said.

Jaime didn't think he'd heard him right. It took him a couple of minutes to gather his thoughts and speak.

"How do you know?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Then bugger off and let me be!" he yelled.

Hyle went quiet this time.

"She worried about everyone but herself when she grew ill," Hyle said. "She worried about the boys. She worried about me. Most of all, she worried about you."

"Why should she worry?"

"Because you'd be lonely and friendless without her."

Jaime pushed his chair back and rose, turning towards the window. Yes, this much was true. Without that raven sending missives from Tarth, he'd have nothing and no one. Tyrion was dead, though he'd secured his brother's safety long before his passing. His sister and her children had perished many years before. As for the Lannisters that remained in King's Landing – his home and prison, which he had not left except to attend this funeral – they cared or knew little of him. Even his enemies had perished or simply discarded him. Jaime was a lonely relic.

"Then she should not have died so soon," Jaime muttered fiercely. "There are no gods and if there are, I spit on their face."

Jaime made a fist with his good hand.

"And that's how you know? Because she worried?"

"No. Because she never visited King's Landing after we were wed."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think she was afraid of seeing you again. I think she was afraid she might love you more than she loved me. I think she was afraid she might have loved you more than she loved honor."

Jaime wanted to laugh at that but the admission, it cut deep. It sliced into his marrow.

"You shouldn't have told me any of this," Jaime said. "It's a miserable ending."

"It's miserable but hopefully not an ending," Hyle said as he slid his cup away and rose. "She'd have wanted you to live. I hope you do."

Hyle headed towards the door.

Jaime closed his eyes and felt his heart near to bursting. But there was also a sense of calmness about him.

"Thank you," Jaime said.

Hyle nodded.

THE END


End file.
